The Dominos of Conformity
This powerful insight was part of a quote we used on a recent Wonder Recovery Call to launch our reflection and conversation. The following journal prompt was a doozy: what roles, systems, or identities have you felt pressured to conform to?
The first thing that came to mind was the role of the "good girl." The "nice girl." My childhood antics of staging rumbles in my backyard and Friday night boxing matches with the little sisters of my brother’s friends were extinguished somewhere around fourth grade. I remember being at Girl Scouts one afternoon when a guest speaker talked about “feminine deportment” and told us that kindness was the most admirable virtue to strive for as young ladies. That’s a heavy burden when you're ten. I remember my sixth-grade teacher telling me that playing the saxophone was too masculine. She crossed out my selection on the school band sign-up sheet, and that’s how I hated the trombone for the next three years.
There are plenty of other examples of this throughout my schooling, family, work, and beyond. Without even realizing it, the messaging of being compliant, good, and nice morphed into general people-pleasing, which evolved into martyring my own needs and transforming into resentment, leading to self-loathing.
The next thing you know, I’m forty-five, and Sauvignon Blanc is the quickest way to turn that dial down quickly.
Sobriety disrupted the dominoes of conformity. Sobriety requires consent to discomfort. As much as I resented the place I found myself in—out of touch with my desires—it was comfortable. I needed sobriety first before I could do any deeper work of recovering my wholeness. The pain and unease of learning to meet myself with grace and compassion when cravings would come built my resilience. Choosing sobriety daily became the foundation of reclaiming my autonomy. There is a direct link between my sobriety and the new narrative I claim: I do not owe anyone comfort in my healing process.
Living from the wildness of our hearts is rebellion against conformity. Recovery is the wild. When I think about the ending of that quote—the wildness in our hearts—I can’t help but reflect on my younger self, the little me who loved to facilitate rumbles in her backyard. That little girl was full of untamed energy, unconstrained by the expectations of others. She was fierce and free.
Recovery has brought me back to her, to the wildness within. It’s a homecoming to the parts of myself that got buried under layers of roles and expectations. It’s a rebellion against the pressure to conform, to fit into boxes that never felt right. It’s reclaiming the wonder of my presence, daring to be my truest self in a world that often prefers us to be predictable and safe.
In embracing my sobriety and my wild heart, I’ve found a deeper connection to my desires and a more profound sense of freedom. It’s a journey that requires courage, resilience, and a willingness to befriend unease. But it’s also a path of expansion and liberation, where we can finally live from the wildness within, honoring the untamed energies that rise inside our souls.
One of the most beautiful aspects of this journey is discovering that the wildness inside us is not something to be feared or tamed but something to be celebrated. It’s the source of our creativity, passion, and deepest joys.
So, I invite you to reflect on the roles, systems, or identities you have felt pressured to conform to. What parts of your wild heart have you silenced or ignored? And how can you begin to reclaim that wildness, to live from a place of authenticity and joy? Sobriety is not just about abstaining from alcohol; it’s about daring to be yourself in a world that often tries to make you someone else.
Let’s honor the wildness in our hearts and the journey of recovery that brings us back to our truest selves. Let us celebrate the fierce, free spirits within us and live boldly, courageously, and authentically. In doing so, we not only reclaim our own lives but also inspire others to do the same. And that is a revolutionary act of liberation.